It's Hard Out Here for a Gimp

My leg hurt a little when my foot met the pavement, but I was oblivious to the discomfort. The air was still quite warm, but not as hot as when we arrived, and the sky a deep shade of blue. I moved away from the shuttle and looked up until my head wouldn't drop back anymore. I saw huge granite peaks towering above me and down the midst of them were two massive waterfalls, one atop the other. We walked through a tiny crowd of people and across a dirt path with a sign that pointed the way to Upper Yosemite Falls. We headed towards the paved path that lead towards Lower Yosemite Falls. The sheer majesty of the place compelled me to stop chatting about the beauty, but I know I gasped in awe a couple of times.

It seemed to take about 15 minutes for us to reach the end of the paved walking trail. There were about 10 people and a couple of leashed dogs in this viewing area of the Lower Yosemite Falls. One of the dogs was barking, and the sound seemed out of place. At first I thought the dog was barking at the loud splashing of the waterfall, but upon closer inspection, I realized it was because of the other larger dog a few feet away. I felt grateful that I left my two dogs at home, and I think the dog owners wished they had too. Their body language looked stressed and uncomfortable, and both of them didn't linger for very long, which was unfortunate for them. I understood how John Muir could call this place one of, "the special temples of Nature I was every permitted to enter." In the quiet majesty we stood in awe observing this massive creation.

I have no idea how long this took, because neither of us left the room with anything except the clothes on our bodies - no map, no camera, no phone, no time piece. I was most disappointed that I had neglected to bring a camera, because after our waterfall encounter the light was slowly dimming and the visual effect from it was stunning. I silently decided that one should never be without a camera once inside the Yosemite Valley.

As the sun began to sink between El Capitan and Eagle Peak, and thinking we would be without light in a short while, we decided we best make an attempt at finding a shuttle stop to take us back to The Ahwahnee. Not wanting to hurry, we ended up taking the path that lead through Cook's Meadow, thinking there would be a shuttle stop over on the other side. When we reached someplace near the middle, we stopped, taking in a 360 degree view of the place. The sun had now dropped behind the ridges of the granite peaks, and there was a massive dark orange, boa cloud floating amidst a pale blue sky. When I turned to look in the opposite direction Half Dome was illuminated. It was at this point that I cursed myself for not having a brought my camera, and I vowed to come back the very next day to capture this spectacular sight.

We continued on our journey trying to locate a shuttle stop, as twilight fell upon us. Eventually we found a young family to inquire about the time. It was their youngest who answered us. Two hours had passed! I was disappointed, because I didn't want to stop exploring this valley wonderland. I became acutely aware of the discomfort in my leg. I realized that it was tired and sore, and I needed to sit down and rest. This was the longest walk I had taken for two weeks! I made a mental note about what time tomorrow that we should return for a photo of this lovely sight. As it turned out, we got off at shuttle stop eight, and had worked our way all the way back to stop two. It was a very short ride back to our beautiful room (one stop later), but my leg was done for the day. I can still feel the soothing coolness of the ice my caring husband applied to it upon our return.